Sidetracked



Stream of Consciousness

I made it to my classes today, well, most of my classes. It was exhausting.

I'm taking an African studies class this semester. It's actually an Anthropology class masked as an African studies class. I am becoming somewhat jaded when it comes to these types of classes, and I just realized this today.

I'll be interested to see how my Women's Literature class rubs me on Friday. I guess Women's Lit. is a bit more concrete. I'm getting off topic.

So I walk into class and see a hodgepodge of neo-punk kids, emo kids, indie kids, alternative kids, you get the picture.

Being the naive person that I realized I am, I was expecting to see a bunch of black people. But again, that is another story.

I stuck out like a sore thumb with my American Eagle t-shirt and mini skirt. I don't mind sticking out like a sore thumb though, so I sat next to a woman trying to look as indie as possible and smiled. A couple of seats over sat another woman who I went to high school with. Back then we call her "pretty punk girl" for her pink Chuck Taylors and pop-punk style. Keeping with the trends, she fit in well in this class, donning a plethora of thrift store finds.

My point of all of this is everyone in this class was trying to look like they had their own eclectic, eccentric style, and in the process adopted each other's look.

I found this way more interesting than anything the professor had to say.

I started this post with some definite points, and somewhere along the way it fell apart.

I'm just going to leave this as is.

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